Chapter Text
“Oh come on, Lorraine!” Mary dragged her best friend towards the crowd, right into the middle of the action. “You can’t study god all day, you need a little sin sometimes.”
It was one of the very first hot summer evenings in 1951. The air smelled like a mix of cigarette smoke and the faint scent of turpentine. The art students of the University of Ashfield had displayed their final paintings in the campus courtyard and now celebrated the end of their studies.
For Lorraine it was one of the first student parties she had ever attended. She was the kind of student that didn’t let anybody or anything distract her and wanted to devote herself entirely to her theology studies. She felt like she wasn’t supposed to be there, right between all those unusual - almost rebellious - people.
She would rather be at home sticking her nose in some big books.
“Honestly, Lorraine, you need a little fun!” Caught in her thoughts, Lorraine barely noticed the world around her until Mary’s touch and the sudden weigh of a drink in her hand.
“Oh believe me, I have some fun. With books in my lap and a cup of tea - at home.” She took a sip, and the liquid running down her throat burned a little, but pleasantly.
“I don’t think this is where I belong.”
“Honey, you never know. Maybe you’re about to meet the love of your life.”
Lorraine felt a certain arch in her heart at Mary’s words. Her thoughts wandered to Charles, who was on the other side of the world, writing her letters she clung to for dear life. She had promised to wait for him.
Mary noticed her sad look. “I know you’re thinking about him. But that doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy tonight. You know, clear your head and take a break
for once.”
Lorraine quickly wiped away a tear. “It’s just…hard to keep going and not knowing if he’ll ever come back home. But I guess you’re right.” She forced a small smile.
Her gaze drifted over the courtyard. The party was already in full swing, with music and laughter spilling from every corner. Lorraine’s eyes were caught by someone - a young man standing alone, yet somehow not out of place, sketching the moment with a steady stare. She didn’t know why, but something about him made her pause.
Mary followed Lorraine’s gaze.
“Ohhh, that’s Ed Warren. He’s in my art class. The quiet one. You know, always there but never saying much. But these are always the most interesting ones. Go on,” Mary grinned and nudged Lorraine’s elbow. “Say hi. I bet he’s nice.”
“But I don’t even know what to say…” Lorraine murmured.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Just talk about his sketchbook or something. Go with the flow.” She winked at Lorraine and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lorraine standing there with her heart thudding against her ribs.
Lorraine took a deep breath. Oh come on, Lorraine, don’t be silly. He won’t bite or something.
“That’s really good,” she finally said, stepping closer to Ed, her eyes fixed on the sketch. “Did you draw all of this just now?”
Surprised by the comment, Ed looked up from his sketchbook. A small smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
“Well yeah, kind of,” he said, glancing toward the noisy courtyard. “It’s just a little hard to focus with all that music.” His voice was calm, steady - almost grounding.
Lorraine let out a quiet laugh. “I can imagine. It’s quite chaotic, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. But that’s also the best time to draw people.” he said.
“Is it?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Ed nodded, his eyes flicking briefly from his sketch to her face. “When they stop pretending and just…are. That’s when you really see them.”
For a moment, Lorraine didn’t know what to say. There was something about the way he said it. Something calm, observing - that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected. Her chest tightened and she quickly looked away, afraid he might notice.
“Well…do you like art?” Ed asked.
“I do.”
And for the first time, Lorraine looked Ed straight in the eyes. She couldn’t help but notice that he had the most breathtaking blue eyes she’d ever seen.
Afraid of staring for too long, she added “but usually I don’t hang out with the art students.”
She felt her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know where that came from and it frightened her in some way.
“Then you probably haven’t met the right ones yet.” Ed winked at her. Lorraine felt the blood rush to her cheeks and took a quick sip from her drink to hide her blush.
“Speaking of students…do you also study art? Because I don’t think I’ve seen you in any of my classes.” Ed noticed her nervousness and tried to focus on something else — the flicker of light, the fading music — but somehow, his eyes kept finding their way back to her.
Damn, she’s really beautiful.
“No, no, I don’t.” Lorraine said, grateful for the change of topic. “I’m studying theology. It’s my first year at university.”
“Theology,” Ed repeated. “So you’re studying the heavens while I try to paint them.”
Lorraine chuckled. “Sort of? Though I’m not sure anyone can truly study the heavens.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but you can feel them. In light, in colour, in people.”
She tilted her head. “That sounds almost like a prayer.”
“Maybe it is.” he replied, eyes still on her.
Lorraine could feel his gaze linger, and it made her feel something — something she couldn’t name, something she didn’t want to control.
For a fleeting moment, she let it happen. But then her thoughts wandered to Charles, to the letters and promises she’d made. A wave of guilt washed over her.
No, not here. Not today.
With a small shake of her head she pulled herself back to reality. The sun was setting slowly and in the background, the soft murmur of voices filled the warm evening air.
Before she could say anything, Lorraine felt a hand wrap around her waist.
“Come on, just one dance!” Mary laughed, pulling her toward the dance floor.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered quickly over her shoulder.
Ed just lifted a hand in a small gesture that told her it was all right — a quiet smile playing on his lips as he watched her disappear into the crowd.
The courtyard had grown warmer, heavy with hot summer air, spilled wine and smoke of cigarettes. People danced carelessly to the sound of jazz, their laughter spilling into the night, voices loud and alive.
Everyone seemed happy. Free.
And for a moment, Lorraine let herself be one of them.
For a moment, she let the music take her by the hand, let it pull her away from the noise inside her head.
For a moment, she allowed herself to stop thinking — about Charles, about promises, about who she was supposed to be.
It felt strange, almost wrong, to feel something like joy again. But it was there — quiet and soft, blooming somewhere deep in her chest.
She breathed in, as if she could keep it, save it for later.
For a moment, Lorraine allowed herself to be happy.
Mary spun her around, both of them laughing, the sound of it mixing with the brass and drums. The band had started playing a slower song now — for all the lovebirds, the singer had said — and Mary, of course, was already in someone else’s arms, leaving Lorraine standing alone in the crowd.
Slowly, she moved toward the edge of the courtyard, trying to catch her breath, her fingers brushing through her hair to tame the loose strands that had fallen over her face.
What she didn’t notice was that Ed had been watching her the whole time.
He had meant to go back to his sketch, but his eyes kept finding her — in the way she laughed, in the way she moved without meaning to, in the light that caught her hair just right. Something about her — her presence, her gentleness, her quiet beauty — stirred a warmth inside him he couldn’t quite name.
He tried to force his focus back onto the page, but his hands had other plans. The pencil began to move on its own, tracing soft, careful lines. The curve of her jaw. The tilt of her smile. The distant look in her eyes.
Before he realized it, she was there — on the page, alive in graphite and shadow.
When her heartbeat finally began to steady, Lorraine turned — and there he was.
Ed was still there, sitting near one of the small tables, his sketchbook open on his knee. But this time it felt different.
His gaze kept flicking between the paper and…her.
No, he couldn’t possibly be—
Don’t be silly, she told herself. And yet curiosity tugged at her until she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
With a hesitant breath and a small, nervous smile, she stepped closer.
And of course — her intuition didn’t fail her. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the page.
It was her.
Ed looked up instantly, caught off guard.
“I—” he stammered, snapping the sketchbook half-shut. “I’m sorry…this probably isn’t appropriate.”
“Oh no,” she whispered. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was delicate, trembling — like something sacred they might break if they moved too quickly.
Somewhere above them, one of the fairy lights burst with a faint pop, scattering tiny sparks that vanished into the night.
Both flinched. The band stopped for a heartbeat, the courtyard dipped into silence — and then, just as quickly, the music returned.
In the heat of the moment, Ed’s pencil slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
They both instinctively bent down to pick it up — and that’s when it happened.
Their fingers touched.
A spark ran through both of them, sharp and sudden, as if the air itself had come alive. It lasted only a second, but it felt like forever — like time had slowed down just for them.
Lorraine froze.
Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening until she thought he might hear it.
She pulled her hand back too quickly, her chest tightening with a feeling she didn’t quite understand.
Overwhelmed. Afraid of what it meant.
“Here,” she said softly, handing the pencil back to him, her voice barely audible.
Ed opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came.
“I think I need to go…” Lorraine stumbled over the words, not daring to meet his eyes.
And before he could stop her, she turned and hurried away — out of the courtyard, out of the light, out into the quiet night beyond the campus gates.
He stayed where he was, the pencil still warm from her touch.